


Last Christmas (Now I Know What A Fool I've Been)

by gingertintedglasses



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Christmas AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Wham!, Wham! was my inspiration on this one, no really, not really winter solider bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: Last Christmas, Steve Rogers gave Bucky Barnes his heart and...Well, that was last year.  They haven't spoken since that night.  It's a year later and everyone (Ev-er-y-one) has been trying to get them to talk.  To reconcile.  At Sam and Maria's annual holiday party, Steve stops being so pig-headed and Bucky finds his voice.





	Last Christmas (Now I Know What A Fool I've Been)

****

**_Christmas, 2016: Steve_ **

 

It was midnight and Steve was sitting on his fire escape (wrapped up in a blanket to keep the chill out, thank you, he wasn’t a _complete_ idiot, despite what his friends probably thought). His cocoa had gone cold at least an hour ago and his phone was somewhere in his apartment. On silent.

It was so cold out that any tears that did escape down his cheeks dried (froze) almost immediately. So it was almost like he wasn’t really crying.

Sam and Maria had just bought a house and decided to host a housewarming-slash-holiday party. Everyone was there. And by “Everyone” Steve meant Sam and Maria (of course), himself(-and-Bucky), Natasha, Thor, Clint, Tony, and Bruce. Even Thor’s brother Loki showed up. And Peggy. And Dugan and Gabe and Rhodey.

_Everyone_ was there. It was wonderful and loud and bright and there was so much good food and drink and company. And Bucky. Bucky was there and Steve had been in love with him since before he could remember (no, really). They’d gone to the party together because they did _everything_ together. Had just graduated college that year together, endless possibilities before them and Steve was suddenly glad they hadn’t decided to be roommates. That it was more convenient for both of them to live separately and closer to their respective jobs.

Because if they hadn’t. If they hadn’t, Steve would have to face Bucky tonight after he’d- after he’d made the _biggest_ mistake he’d ever made and listened to his friends _Tony, Peggy, **why**_?! And he couldn’t do that. He could barely _think_ about it.

He and Bucky had been together always; growing up and going to school and dragging each other into and out of fights (with each other and other people). Which is how he fell in the first place. Bucky had always been there and they’d always been a part of each other and so when Tony and Peggy mentioned _the eyes you two make at each other, oh my God, when are you going to get together already?_ Steve _believed them_ and partway through the night after a little liquid courage –not much, he couldn’t really have more than a drink or two as it was- he sought out Bucky.

Bucky, who looked handsome and cozy in his red Henley and dark jeans and his stubble and his hair that looked so shiny and bright under the twinkling lights. Who was laughing, and turning away from Rhodey and towards the direction Steve had come from with his eyes still crinkled in mirth and his smile stretched wide. Who Steve didn’t hesitate to walk straight to and straight _into_ and lean up on his toes as far as he could and press his lips to Bucky’s. And when he leaned back to see Bucky’s face, to tell him that he loved him, Steve saw the _look_ on Bucky’s face and. He looked so…shocked. Upset. Angry? Maybe. Bucky was standing stock-still, _frozen_ , staring at Steve with nothing on his face reminiscent of happiness or pleasant surprise or any of the bubbly, exciting things Steve had felt under his skin just moments before.

Steve _ran_. Well, not ran, necessarily. He could only get so far in the cold, even with his inhaler. But he made it far enough that, a block over when he caught a cab, his chest was heaving but he wasn’t about to have an asthma attack. Peggy had texted him to find out where he’d gone, what had happened and Steve was so angry, so heartbroken and heartsick he could only think to type back _Fuck you guys_. He didn’t mean it. He loved Peggy; she was one of his best friends and so wasn’t Tony but he was nauseous with upset and fear and he was so busy cursing his impulsivity it spilled over to his friends.

And two hours later, he was still out on his fire escape trying not to cry. Trying to figure out how to get up the next day and not talk to Bucky, or see him or – _fuck_. Steve wasn’t sure how to live his life without Bucky taking up half of it. And he’d have to now, he was sure. The look on Bucky’s face had said everything. He didn’t want Steve the way Steve wanted him.

Tony had tried to call, and Sam, and Peggy, all in the twenty minutes it took for the cab to get from Sam and Maria’s back to Steve’s apartment. He didn’t answer. Bucky tried to call him, twice, before Steve put his ringer on silent. He couldn’t bear to hear what Bucky had to say, the reprimand, or worse, the gentle, pitying let-down. Steve was brave and stubborn but he didn’t have the courage to hear that. 

By the time he ducked back into his apartment from his fire escape he’d missed five more calls from Bucky and it was three in the morning. Steve left his phone on silent and shuffled into bed. He wasn’t one to throw a pity-party, but he felt justified in this case. He’d just cost himself his best friend.

 

**_Christmas 2016: Bucky_ **

 

Steve wasn't answering his phone. Not for Tony or Sam or Peggy. Bucky tried calling twice before thinking, _fuck this_ , and throwing on his coat and hurrying over to Steve's apartment instead.   
  
He didn't answer his door when Bucky knocked and so Bucky dug around in his pockets for his keys. He and Steve always had a key to each other’s - _motherfucker where the hell are his keys_. If they'd fallen out of his pocket on the street he was fucked. If they were in the Uber there was hope. With more luck, they were at Sam and Maria's.  
  
"Steve. C'mon. Open up. Please. You don't understand. I was surprised but -because I didn't think you'd want me. I-" _I have an arm and a half and night terrors and how could you want that, how could I ask that of you, you have enough on your plate._  
  
No answer. "If you took your ears out already I'll be pissed." Bucky choked on the half-hearted threat. That's what Steve had called his hearing aids when they were kids and its what they'd called them since. The silence on the other side of the door didn't feel any better for his joke.  
  
He tried again. And again. Steve never answered.  His phone rang, Sam’s face lighting up Bucky’s screen.  
  
"Yeah?" Jesus he sounded pitiful.  
  
"C'mon man. You know as well as I do he'd not gonna do a damn thing until he's ready. It's almost two in the morning. Come crash here; you forgot your keys here anyway."  
  
"Sam he thinks I don't want him."  
  
"So he's a jackass. We already knew that. I'll hit him over the head with some Real Talk in a day or two. Promise."  
  
Bucky loosed a slow breath and stepped away from Steve's door. "Ok. Alright. Thanks, Sam."  
  
***  
  
Two days later, he got a text from Sam:  
  
_Need more time. He won't talk about it. Sorry._  
  
Bucky took in a breath that was all knives and typed back:  
  
_Ok._

***  
  
Two days turned into two weeks. Bucky's despair turned into anger. Steve wouldn't talk to him -wouldn't talk to _anyone_ \- about what happened. They were adults and if Steve had been brave enough to kiss him, he damn well should be brave enough to face whatever consequences there were. Sam was right that Steve was being pigheaded. He wasn’t so sure that Sam was right about Steve coming around.

They saw each other for the first time three weeks after Sam and Maria’s party. It was stilted and awkward and _awful_.

“So you, uh, had a good new year?” Steve picked at his coffee cup and avoided Bucky’s eyes as much as possible.  

“It was…different. Not as great as past years.”

Steve nodded and glanced around again for an exit. Maybe it wasn’t so great that Bucky had run into Steve on the way into Starbucks after all.

“Steve, listen, this is awkward and I just—“

“-I gotta go. Sorry. Uhm. We can talk about it another time, maybe, ok?”

“-Steve, no. It’s really important that you hear me out, you need to know-“

“-I said not now!” Steve almost shouted. And surprised both of them, Steve’s ears and cheeks going pink, and Bucky taking half a step backwards.

“Oh. Uh. Oh –Ok.”

Bucky watched Steve hurry away with his head down.

***

He didn’t see Steve again for weeks and when he did, nothing was different. Steve kept a distance and wouldn’t really look him in the eye and treated Bucky like he treated new people: wary and keeping all his exits (literal and figurative) in sight. It made Bucky’s stomach turn and it made him wonder if he’d really known Steve at all. If Steve had ever really known ( _trusted_ ) him.

It made him avoid Steve, because he didn’t want to feel that way. He didn’t know how to fix it if Steve wouldn’t listen.

“You know if you two keep this up, I’m calling _Lifetime_.”

“Shut up, Nat.” Bucky poked morosely at his muffin and didn’t meet her eyes.

“Have you tried to leave him a voicemail or a text or write him a letter or, I don’t know. You can probably find a boombox _somewhere_ and go stand outside his window with it. You have options.”

Bucky shrugged and leaned back heavily in his chair. “I don’t know if I want that.”

Natasha kicked his chair so hard he winced and (finally) looked at her. “Say that again and mean it.”

“I don’t – I don’t _think_ I do? Sometimes I mean it. Just – he doesn’t want to listen and he won’t talk to me and he acts like I’ll _hurt_ him. Do I want that back? I’ve known him our whole lives, how is it possible that he doesn’t know I wouldn’t hurt him? Even if I _didn’t_ love him –which I do- I wouldn’t hurt him. But he thinks I will. Or he’s acting like it. Do I want that?”

Bucky appreciated Natasha because she always seemed to know when to be blunt and when to be gentle. She looked him over long enough that he started fiddling with the paper around his muffin again.

“Maybe you’re right, James.” She picked up her to-go cup and stood in one smooth motion but didn’t leave until she dropped a kiss on top of his head. “You know not one of us would hold it against you if that’s what you chose to do.”

And then she was gone. Bucky sat in the café poking at his muffin for a while longer. He didn’t want to lose Steve, even though he felt like he already had. He was willing to fight to get back what they had. What they _could_ have. But it didn’t feel like Steve wanted that. Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted someone that was going to run from a problem forever; someone that wasn’t willing to communicate. He’d always known Steve could be obstinate. Had gotten more than enough first-hand experience with that particular quality over the years. But it’d never been like this, and Bucky didn’t know what to do with it. With himself.

He thought a lot of things about himself, and half of them not very nice, since the car accident that took half of one arm. _And Steve had been there the whole time, had even slept in the hospital_ , he reminded himself.  Bucky had a lot of Feelings about his arm and what it meant for his future now, but he knew his future didn’t look like a partner with whatever lack of communication Steve was offering.

Bucky wanted to fight for Steve, and their friendship and maybe-someday-relationship, but he couldn’t if Steve kept knocking down his attempts.

Bucky was pretty sure that he’d lost his best friend.

 

**_Christmas, 2017: Steve_ **

 

2017 had sucked. He’d gotten in plenty of protesting and petitioning but he still felt overwhelmed and he’d ended up in the hospital a three times (and had only been arrested twice, Peggy coming to bail him out both times with a severe expression and concern in her berating.)

“At least you aren’t black and blue _and_ in a holding cell.” Peggy mused.

“Pegs. Thanks for bailing me out. What do I owe you?” Steve stuffed his keys in his pocket and opened his wallet.

“A promise not to get yourself arrested again this year.”

Steve was never good at neutral expressions. “That’s too steep a price.”

Peggy hummed, arching an eyebrow.

“You know-“ Steve cut himself off. He nearly told her that Bucky wouldn’t have given him such shit. That Bucky would’ve just bailed him out and asked if he wanted to grab breakfast.

“What?”

“Thanks, Peggy.”

She gave him an appraising look that made Steve wonder (again) if she could read minds. “You can buy me breakfast to pay me back instead. You must be hungry.”

“Phillips’ Diner?”

“Everyone’s favorite.” Peggy smiled.

_Everyone_. “Yeah.”

***

Steve still saw his friends regularly (and Bucky was there only sometimes) and they’d occasionally tried to remind him of his failure –of _Bucky_ \- at Sam and Maria’s party, but they mostly let him live out his consequences himself. They respected his wishes that they not tell Bucky about his hospital visits _or_ his arrests (and he felt far more guilty for it than he wanted to admit).

He was still endlessly lonely and heartsick and he felt entirely pathetic for it. It’d been almost a year and he hadn’t gotten over Bucky. He’d tried to date but he always found an excuse to break up. Work was too busy. He wasn’t feeling well. His date wasn’t really his _type_ after all.

Steve was _pining_ over Bucky. He missed his best friend. Sam and Nat and Tony and Peggy and Maria and – _everyone_ \- had tried to tell him to talk to Bucky. It was easy for them to say; they hadn’t been the one to kiss him and ruin everything. They had no understanding of the ramifications of what Steve had done. He refused their suggestions. He knew better.

Bucky had tried to talk to him in the first weeks that followed the kiss. To let him down easy. Steve couldn’t stomach such a thing and had fled the awkward, stilted conversation (and the weight on his chest that threatened panic). Ever since that first meeting, he’d managed to avoid talking about the kiss (or avoided Bucky entirely) until Bucky finally just left it alone.

They’d seen each other only a handful of times in the past year and Steve hated how uncomfortable it felt as much as he hated how infrequently he saw Bucky. His phone was near-silent without Bucky’s texts and gifs and links and calls. His social life was a little less active, and even when he was out with his friends it seemed less bright, less happy, because Bucky wasn’t always there. (And when he was. When he was, Steve felt his stomach turning over and would make the earliest exit he could without being rude). 

And now it was December, again. And Maria and Sam had invited him to their house again.

“What can I bring?”

“Make your cupcakes, man.   Those things are delicious.” Sam loved Steve’s dark chocolate, red wine cupcakes.

“I’ll even go the extra mile and make cream cheese frosting.”

“My God, it’s like you love us.”

Steve laughed. Love. “Will, uh Bucky—“

“—Uh uh. No way. We are not going down that road. You did not break up.” That was Maria’s voice.

Steve sat up straight from his place on his couch. “Am I on speakerphone? And maybe we didn’t break up romantically, but-“

“-Steve. We have spent the better part of the last _year_ trying to get you two to talk to each other. Bucky’s tried to talk to you. You won’t listen. At some point, you need to stop acting like this is something that _happened_ to you. It’s something you _did_ to yourself.”

Steve’s cheeks went hot. “Me? Maria, I _kissed_ him and all he could do was—“

“-Save that kind of perspective for the person you _should_ be talking to about this. You’re both invited. He didn’t ask if you’d be there or not. We’ll see you next Saturday, or we won’t. But I _know_ I speak for everyone when I say you have to own this one soon, Steve.”

Steve slumped back against his couch.

“Your silence means she’s right, you know.” Sam’s smile shone through his voice.

Steve wasn’t too obstinate to laugh. “You might have a point.”

Maria hummed. “See you soon, Steve.”

***

Steve made his cupcakes and went to the party and smiled and nearly panicked when he saw Bucky. Bucky, who was wearing dark jeans and a white shirt and a navy blazer. Who had his hair slicked back and was smiling but looked less _bright_ and a little thinner.

Bucky, who glanced Steve’s way, did a double take, and only dropped his smile for a moment. Not long enough for just anyone to notice. But long enough for a best friend to notice. Steve swallowed his fear and anxiety and pride and set his cupcakes aside and motioned for Bucky to follow him out to the porch.

Steve shook out his hands as he waited; half to keep them warm, half to calm his nerves (impossible). He didn’t have to wait long.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve let out a breath. “I, um. I owe you an apology. I owed you one a long time ago, actually.”

Bucky nodded, and waited.

Steve fidgeted. “I’m sorry I kissed you. I know that you – I know I shouldn’t have done it, and ruined our friendship. I know. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I’ve…if I’ve made things weird and. Irreparable.”

Bucky watched him silently almost longer than Steve could bear before he offered, quietly: “It’s been a hard year.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin what we had. First with the kiss and then not talking to you. Really. We – if you can, if you want to, we can forget the kiss ever happened and I’ll – I’ll try to make up the past year to you, if I can. Jesus. I hope I can, I-“

“-Steve.” Bucky was still quiet, but his voice stopped Steve’s rambling.

“Yeah?” Too hopeful. He knew he sounded too hopeful. Too many eggs in the same basket. Always been his problem.

“You’re gonna catch your death out here.” 

Steve huffed out a short laugh. “Wouldn’t be the first time this year, I was-“

“ _I know_.” Bucky was louder then, and forceful. “Jesus. I _know_. I was _there_.” 

“What?” Steve felt lightheaded.

“I was _there_. Every time you were in the hospital, I was there. What, did you think you hallucinated me? Every time?”

“Uh.” That’s _exactly_ what Steve had thought.

“Who do you think bailed you out?”

“Peggy, she-“

“-She was mad because it was _me_. I had her meet me there, because I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“But how-“ Oh. His emergency contact. Bucky. _How_ had he forgotten? (Steve was going to blame his subconscious.) “-But the hospital never said – they never mentioned-“

“I asked them not to. Put Sam and Peggy down as secondaries. You never changed the information officially though, to delete me.”

“Bucky, I didn’t know -I didn’t _remember_. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ve –I treated you like shit this year. I wouldn’t hear what you had to say. I will now, if you still want to say it.”

Bucky shrugged. “It taught me a lot about what you think of me.”

“No.” Steve could feel himself pale, feel how much colder he was in an instant. “-Bucky, no. I – you tried to say something to me, for a long time. And I was being too stubborn and I’m sorry. If – if you still want to tell me what it was, I’m – I want to listen.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky looked hopeful. Desperately hopeful. It made Steve’s stomach churn to think he’d made Bucky feel that way.

“Yeah.”

Bucky nodded, taking in and exhaling a deep breath before stepping into Steve’s space (so close, so close and _so warm_ ) and cupping his face with his good hand.

“You didn’t give me a chance, this time last year or anytime _in_ the last year, to kiss you back. I hesitated because I was shocked that you’d want me. That you’d want…everything that comes with me. Or doesn’t.” He motioned to his arm that he usually dubbed _only so useful_ with a rueful expression. “I’m not –you deserve more than me. But if I’m what you want – Jesus, Stevie. I’m too selfish to try and change your mind.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. You couldn’t change my mind if you tried.” Steve was whispering. Because it was only for Bucky’s ears and because they were so, so close. His heart was hammering against his ribs. 

Bucky hummed, a happy relieved sound, and leaned in.

Steve had spent more time than he wanted to admit thinking about what it would be like to kiss Bucky, and then most of the past year agonizing over what it would feel like to have Bucky kiss back (and wondering why he _hadn’t_ kissed back).   So when he felt Bucky’s tongue slide across his lips, Steve tipped forward on his toes, opened his mouth, and leaned into the kiss with a quiet sound.

 

**_Christmas 2017: Bucky_ **

 

Bucky didn’t remember a more stressful, heartbreaking year. He’d been unable to reach Steve (and when he saw him, Steve was skittish and obstinate). After a while, he stopped trying. Steve didn’t want to talk to him and Bucky was _angry_ that Steve’s first and only thought was that Bucky would hurt him if he didn’t reciprocate Steve’s feelings.

And then he got the first phone call (first of _five_ that year, _Steve why_ ) from the hospital. Peggy’d had to drive him.

“Pegs what if something happens and I never see him again? What if this is how it ends?”

“Barnes.” Peggy snapped. Peggy never snapped. “That is _not_ going to happen. Now dry your eyes and let me park. I’ll meet you in there.”

He sat by Steve’s bedside. Steve was not ok. Bucky hadn’t worried for nothing and Peggy gripped his hand tight and didn’t say a word the whole time they were there. Steve thought he was hallucinating Bucky. He was happy to see him, he was angry at Bucky, and before Steve was clear-headed enough to realize Bucky _wasn’t_ a figment of his imagination, Bucky left. (The things Steve said when he was angry were enough that Bucky kept his distance and made Peggy fume. He talked her down. It wasn’t ok, but this wasn’t the time.) Steve wasn’t ready to see him and hear him yet. 

And then it happened four more times.

At least two of the calls were arrests. Bucky could live with that. He gave Peggy the bail money to get Steve out (despite her protests that it should be him so that _bloody stubborn ass finally has to face that fact that he loves you and you’d do anything for him and he’s being ridiculous_ ). Bucky knew Steve wouldn’t want to see him fresh out of a holding cell and if Bucky was honest with himself, the longer the distance between them got, the less Bucky _wanted_ to see Steve anyway. Steve was stubborn, but this. This was something else. It made Bucky’s heart ache. 

***

It was July and he’d _never_ missed one of Steve’s birthdays. He’d texted Steve to wish him a happy birthday but without hearing back, without _seeing_ Steve on the day, it wasn’t the same. He’d wanted to. Clint had told him to show up anyway, that Steve would like to see him and _maybe you assholes could start talking again_. Bucky stayed home, and called his mother instead.

“Oh sweetheart, it’ll be ok.”

“You don’t know that, Ma. You don’t know what’s happened.”

“Oh yes I do. You’ve told me plenty of times. I think he’s being a jerk too, but I’ve also known Steve as long as you have. He’ll come around, he just has to do it on his time.” 

Bucky wiped a sleeve across his nose. “But why does it have to feel like this?”

Winifred Barnes sighed. “I want to tell you how sensitive you are but I don’t want to be unsupportive. You two never learned how to function without one another.”

“ _Ma_.”

“Fine. You’re _both_ hopeless and sensitive you’ve never had your heart broken like this.”

“It’s just. We’re not talking and -what if something _bad_ happens and we’re _still_ not talking? He’s already been in the hospital _and_ arrested a couple times this year.”

Bucky’s mom hummed thoughtfully. “That sounds like great motivation to make sure you’re speaking again sooner rather than later, sweetheart.”

Bucky groaned and sniffled. “Why do you have to be _right_ so often?”

His mother laughed. “Lots of practice being wrong, mostly.”

Bucky took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been dying and dreading asking: “Has, uh. Has Steve called you at all?”

“He hasn’t; that’s how I knew something was wrong. I left him a message to tell him that no matter what had happened, I loved him and he could always call me.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“It’s what I want and what Sarah would want.”

Bucky thanked his mother again as best he could and hung up. And then took a long, hot shower and had himself a good, long cry.

***

“So are you gonna own your part in this, or are you just going to sulk forever?” Natasha picked over the plate of nachos as she spoke, not bothering to look at Bucky. 

“The super cheesy ones are on this side.” He turned the plate for her. “And my part? What the hell?”

She hummed, choosing a chip and fixed him with a penetrating glare as she chewed. “It’s September. You both suck as far as company goes. He’s being a stubborn jackass and you’re bleeding all over anyone when you know you don’t have to. This is ridiculous. You’re both adults. When this year were you going to actually force the issue?”

“He was so _uncomfortable_ , Nat.”

“He always is when he doesn’t want to do something. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t _need_ to talk about it. You had him contained five times already this year and you didn’t talk about what happened between you two. Or tape a note that says _I wanted to kiss you back, stupid_ to his front door. Maybe next time he gets arrested or lands himself in the hospital, you should _talk to him_.” 

“Don’t say that.” Bucky itched at his arm. He knew logically it was numb most of the time.

“What? A note would be hilarious.”

“No. You know. The hospital thing. Jesus.”

“Just think about it, ok? You two really need to talk and it’s past time for you to own your part of this rift.”

Bucky groaned. “I don’t—“

“You’re almost as stubborn as he is. You’ve got every right to be mad at him, and confused and hurt. But you’re also a grown man who knows how to use words and who knows Steve better than anyone. You’re half of the relationship. Own it. Talk to him instead of just _woe is me_ -ing all the time.   I can’t take this level of communication bullshit.”

Bucky laughed despite himself. “Ok. Alright. I will. I’ll try again.”

“Good.” Natasha reached across and squeezed his hand. “I want to see you two happy again. This is driving all of us nuts, I can’t imagine how it feels for you two.”

“Like losing a limb.”

Nat tipped her head to one side. “You’d know.”

He laughed again. “Thanks, Natasha.”

***

Sam and Maria hosted the holiday party again ( _it’s a new tradition_ , Maria said, _we both like having a full house_ and had smiled cryptically). He was invited. He knew Steve was too so he didn’t bother asking whether Steve would be there. He bought Maria a bottle of her favorite wine (Clos de Bois; she thanked him, but didn’t open it) and Sam his favorite whiskey (Bullit) and a ricotta cake. He fussed over his outfit for an hour on the phone with Clint ( _Dude, you know all of us and you’ve already met your soulmate, even if he does have his head up his ass. Wear what you want._ )

He looked good and he felt ok. He was talking to Clint about going to see the new _Star Wars_ movie when it was released the following week. Clint was trying to talk him into a lightsaber fight while they inevitably waited in line to get into the theatre. He didn’t need much convincing. And then he saw Steve.

Steve who’d just arrived with his cupcakes and his dark skinny jeans and his red sweater (and no jacket, Jesus it’s like he was trying to hospitalize himself again) and his handsome, stupid face. Bucky was staring, he knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah. Wait, what?” He hadn’t listened to whatever Clint had just proposed and had maybe just agreed to something. With Clint, one had to be careful.

Clint grinned. “Never mind, man. We can plan later.”

“No, sorry, I just,” he glanced Steve’s way again and saw Steve tilt his head towards the front door. Bucky didn’t even think before he was saying: “I’ll be right back, I just have to –yeah.” And followed Steve. He itched his arm that didn’t itch and stepped outside. 

*** 

Steve was talking about the past year: apologizing (too much about the kiss and not enough about cutting Bucky out of his life) and repeating himself and Bucky wanted to be angry, to shake Steve and shout at him about how terrible Bucky had felt for the past year (even with his mother and Natasha’s voices in his head, even knowing there was truth in what they said) but it wouldn’t come out of his mouth and Steve _didn’t have a jacket on_ and he interrupted Steve. 

Steve hadn’t known he was at the hospital or had been there to bail him out.

“What?” Steve sounded winded.  

“I was _there_. Every time you were in the hospital, I was there. What, did you think you hallucinated me? Every time?”

“Uh.” Bucky had thought as much, but it still hurt to think Steve thought he wouldn’t have shown up.

“Who do you think bailed you out?”

“Peggy, she-“

“-She was mad because it was _me_. I had her meet me there, because I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me.” Bucky knew that asking about bail wasn’t really fair. Steve wouldn’t have known. Wouldn’t have had any reason to think Peggy _wouldn’t_ bail him out, in Bucky’s absence.

“But how -But the hospital never said – they never mentioned-“ Steve had forgotten Bucky was his emergency contact. Bucky wasn’t sure that was actually possible, but given how startled Steve looked, he _had_ forgotten. Bucky’d been his contact for so long. (Since Sarah died, halfway through their freshman year.)

“I asked them not to. I didn’t want to upset you.” _I didn’t want to be in the dark about what was happening to you_ , Bucky thought. “I put Sam and Peggy down as secondaries. You never changed the information officially though, to delete me.”

“Bucky, I didn’t know -I didn’t _remember_. I’m sorry. Thank you. I’ve –I treated you like shit this year. I wouldn’t hear what you had to say. I will now, if you still want to say it.”

Bucky had a lot to say. About how much he loved Steve. How much he _loves_ Steve. About how much he’d missed him this past year and how many times he replayed the party in his head, how every time, it seemed like he hesitated even longer between when Steve kissed him and when Steve ran. Instead, all he could find to say was: “It taught me a lot about what you think of me.”

“No.” Steve paled, shivered. “-Bucky, no. I – you tried to say something to me, for a long time. And I was being too stubborn and I’m sorry. If – if you still want to tell me what it was, I’m – I want to listen.”

“Yeah?” Bucky had a lot to say. He wasn’t sure where to start, but he knew he wanted to start somewhere, if he was going to get the chance now.

“Yeah.”

Before he could think too much about what he was doing, Bucky was leaning into Steve, his good hand on Steve’s face.

“You didn’t give me a chance, this time last year or anytime _in_ the last year, to kiss you back. I hesitated because I was shocked that you’d want me. That you’d want…everything that comes with me. Or doesn’t.” He shifted his left shoulder. “I’m not –you deserve more than me. But if I’m what you want – Jesus, Stevie. I’m too selfish to try and change your mind.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. You couldn’t change my mind if you tried.” Steve breathed.

Bucky didn’t waste more time on talking and he shifted Steve closer (Steve was cold, and Bucky wanted him closer, had missed having him close) and then he was _kissing_ Steve and Steve’s mouth was so warm and sweet and Bucky could feel something relieved and bright bubbling under his skin.

“We _do_ need to talk, though.” Bucky broke the kiss when he knew Steve needed a breath. “But not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, over breakfast at my place? Tonight we could just…catch up with one another and kiss some more?”

“Hell yes.” Steve’s face split into a wide grin even as he leaned up into Bucky again.

Bucky leaned away just a hair. “But we will be talking about what happened. We need to. _I_ need to. I want to be with you and I want this to work but it won’t if we don’t communicate. “

“I know that. I know that now. Whatever you want, Buck. I’m so sorry. I’ve been obstinate and a complete jerk and you didn’t deserve it. Whatever we have to do to make this work, we’ll do. This year has been awful and I don’t want to live like that again.”

Bucky nodded and indulged in another long, slow kiss. Or two.

“I did my part, too. Or rather, _didn’t_. –We’ll talk about it tomorrow. For now, let’s start with getting back inside? You don’t have a jacket and I don’t want you in the hospital again this year.”

Steve opened his mouth, to protest; Bucky knew that eyebrow tilt, but instead Steve said: “-This is exactly the sort of thing you’re talking about. Yeah. Let’s go inside. My hero.”

Bucky laughed, delighted, and wrapped Steve up in a hug (and a last, long kiss) before walking them both back into the house.

Clint had apparently bought party crackers and Bucky and Steve found themselves showered in confetti, cheap toys and chocolates, and a chorus of “ _finally!_ ”s and “ _it’s about damn time!”_ s.

The rest of the party was –Bucky didn’t really remember. He remembered having an arm around Steve the whole time. He remembered feeling the weight of Steve’s arm around him. He didn’t remember exactly what he said to whom, but his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

They kept pulling each other under mistletoe and when they finally got back to Bucky’s apartment (together, together, _together_ ), they were giggling and a little tipsy.

“Mmph.” Bucky shifted back an inch as Steve snuggled back against his chest. “Lemme move my leg.”

“Nah. I like it there.” Steve wriggled so that Bucky’s leg was stuck in between Steve’s again. “You’re so warm.”

“And you’re freezing.” Bucky laid an arm around Steve. “I’m glad you’re here, Stevie.”

“Me too, Buck. M’sorry.”

“Tomorrow.” Bucky nuzzled Steve’s hair. “We’ll work everything out in the morning. No running, no hiding; we’ll talk it out and we’ll be on the same page.”

“Never would’ve thought I’d end up here, last Christmas.”

“Mm. Well, one idiot deserves another.”

Steve elbowed him gently. “Jerk.”

Bucky laughed, sleepy and quiet, and squeezed Steve closer. “Punk."

 


End file.
